TODAY, I want to step away from the political commentary and offer some self-deprecating notes from my childhood. I first attended the New Amsterdam Multilateral School (NAMS) up to third form. I was then transferred to the Skeldon Line Path Secondary School (SLPSS). This was occasioned by the days of petrol shortages, frequent breakdowns of the Guyana Transportation Services Ltd. (GTSL) buses which was dominating the public- transportation scene. At that time, the minibus culture was not pervasive and taxis and hire cars were few and expensive.
I lived in No. 51 Village, so getting into New Amsterdam every day was extremely erratic and getting there on time was also onerous. It was much easier getting to Skeldon as the Lions Club offered several 30-seater school buses at half price and it covered the area from 49 village to Corriverton. The natural thing for my parents to do was to seek a transfer.
At SLPSS, I became well-known in school pretty quickly. I was way more popular than I could ever dream of being at NAMS. After all, I was the town boy from a large urban school who was now at a small countryside school. I quickly developed a crew that I rolled with and as it turned out, I organically carved my own crew of students that were the usual outsiders. I became the de facto group leader without deliberately setting out to do so. In so doing, I disrupted an established group dynamic, which some students did not take kindly. So, I became the target of bullying.
I was taunted about my physical appearance. You see these heavy-set, big, succulent, juicy lips that I have? Hmmmm, I saw what you just did. You paused reading and inspected my column picture above, so I guess you saw them, and yes, big lips. Anyway, they called me “lebba lip,” not without visual justification. The lips I have now were the same size in my childhood. I simply grew into my lips and now they appear more proportional in relation to the other facial appendages. So yes, imagine those lips on a little child. It’s not hard to imagine why “lebba lip” would be a natural temptational utterance. In my own defence, I was never deflated by the taunts because I had developed some formidable verbal counter attacks that caused many students to regret the day they uttered those words. For similarly strong-willed students, it was a good sport trading verbal jabs.
One day while walking from school to the bus station, I was being taunted by some students from Skeldon High School, a nearby school where students trekking to the bus station would often comingle. My sister attended that school, and she witnessed the taunting. Her normal disposition would be to jump to my defence; she has an overwhelmingly strong belief that family must stand up for each other no matter what. Though I was holding my own a bit, I needed the help, but she opted not to chime in. She ignored what was happening and went about her business.
When we got home, she chose to retell the events to our mom. She said, “Mom, today I saw a couple of children calling Junior (I got my father’s name) “lebba lip” and I was just about to defend him but then I turned around and gave him a good look, and mammy, I swear I couldn’t in good conscience defend him. When I looked at him all I saw were two big lips walking down the road. I saw two big lips, a hand and a foot and I couldn’t work up the stomach to defend that. Gosh mammy, the boy’s whole face is a lip.”
My mother broke out into a ground-rolling laughter, the type of deep, bellyful, satisfying laughter that brings tears. My sister’s tone, intonation and pause at just the right place for effect, tremendously hit the spot. I was standing right there; it was a comedy show. I felt a sense of instant forgiveness for my mom. She was not supposed to be laughing, she should be consoling her son, but I don’t think any human could have resisted the evocative jocularity of the moment.
I was laughing too. My mom didn’t care, she knew I was not touchy or sensitive, she knew I was built of strong comedic suasion, and my social filters were sturdy, formidable even.
After composing herself, my mom said, “Come son, let me explain something to you.” In between bouts of giggles, she was able to utter some noble words. “Your mom is proud of your lips. You may not know it now, but when you grow up those lips will be an asset, especially, it will be a girl’s magnet, the girls will love it. You are a bright boy but that is not your only asset. Your lips will feature highly in your social interactions.” Needless to say, I lived long enough to see that my mother’s predictive pep talk turned out to be true. Who’s laughing now? Eh!
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Guyana National Newspapers Limited.